


Storms

by ipona



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:30:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipona/pseuds/ipona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had all started with Loras, as things usually did for Renly, but when a raven arrived from Dragonstone, the game changed completely.</p>
<p>AU where Renly and Stannis actually still love each other, Dragonstone gets no visits from red priestesses, Renly does his duty as a brother, Stannis takes the Iron Throne, and Renly and Loras gets to live happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storms

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. This didn't turn out as well as I wanted but I like AUs where Renly survives. :)
> 
> Obviously there’s going to be a bit of OOC-ness, since Stannis’ and Renly’s dislike of their brothers is pretty crucial to their characters. Tried to base my characterization on the books, but it came out some sort of mixture between books and tv-series, because I love show!Renly.

”I will make him agree, I promise. We have the entire strength of the Reach and the Stormlands, he has to agree to make me his heir.”

_He has to._ Renly wasn’t as sure as he had Mace believe he was. The fat man stood opposite of him, across a table cluttered with little wooden pawns and battle plans, with Randyll Tarly at his side, stern and unsmiling. Renly had promised Mace a place in the royal family, had promised to make his daughter queen. And he would have done just that. He was well loved, well fit for a crown and thanks to Mace, he had the numbers behind him. 

But now, the game was completely changed.

He should have expected Stannis to take up arms against Joffrey claim. He had been furious when he departed from King’s Landing, desperate in this new knowledge of Joffrey’s true parentage. Renly hadn’t been told the truth until everything was way too late, when dark wings delivered dark words to his table, something Stannis surely regretted now.

His older brother had never been well loved, not at court, not by the bannermen in the Stormlands – and that robbed him of the power he could have held, so when Renly received a raven from Dragonstone with Stannis claim, he had been surprised – and worried. Then again, Stannis was a just and strict man who would die before he saw a bastard sitting on the throne that should be his.

Not that Renly wanted that either. The Lannisters had never been friends of his, and frankly, even mad Aerys had been a better king than what cruel and immature Joffrey would be.

It had all started with Loras, as most things did for Renly. His beloved Knight of Flowers had assured him that the throne was ripe for the taking after Robert so tragically passed, and that Renly had been made for ruling. And why not? He had gotten a taste for the glorious life at court during his time of the small council, and the kingdoms were already shaking. What was one more king, if he could end the war and restore peace to the realm?

But then his brother’s letter reached him – small, neat letters spelling out the demands of the true heir to the Iron Throne. Letting Stannis rot away at Dragonstone would have been easy, unpleasant but doable. But standing up against him on the battlefield? That was another matter entirely and Renly wasn’t sure he could do that.

Growing up in Storm’s End, in the days before the rebellion, Stannis had been the closest thing Renly ever had to a father. Though the man rarely smiled, he had always been kind to his little brother, always regarded him with soft eyes and spoken to him in a tender voice, though his words were often awkward. He had since recognized that tone in Stannis’ voice whenever he spoke to Shireen, his unfortunate little daughter.

Meeting him in battle would mean having to imprison or kill him and that was the last thing Renly wanted. The man was sour and stiff and stubborn, and would maybe make a just king – but never a well-loved one, and killing him was not in the cards. He wouldn’t be able to go through with it, and Stannis was one of the finest commanders the realm had ever known – it would be such a waste. That left negotiation as the only option.

The first option that came to his mind was also the one most likely to succeed – to convince Stannis to make him his heir. The brothers were fourteen years apart so Renly would probably get to sit on the throne for at least a while, and his sons would follow, which would make Mace Tyrell content.

The fat lord nodded slowly. “If you think you can do it, I don’t see why not.”

He and lord Tarly took their leave from Renly’s chambers, their footsteps echoing against the stone walls of Storm’s End until they faded into silence. A light rustle of armor outside the door reminded him that nowadays he had a personal guard with him at all times. Until he had spoken to Stannis, his claim to the throne still stood, and as any king, he was in need of a Kingsguard – though he had named his the Rainbow Guard in honor of the Seven.

“Loras, would you come in?” Renly asked. There were two knights in his Kingsguard who refused to leave his side. One of them was Brienne of Tarth, the newest addition to the Rainbow Guard, a freakishly tall woman knight. The other one was Loras, the third son of Highgarden, the Knight of Flowers, Lord Commander of the Rainbow Guard, young and beautiful and gallant. _And Renly’s, in more ways than one._

“Your grace.” Loras smiled at him. Soft, brown eyes met his and despite the anxiety, he felt somewhat at peace when regarded with such warmth.

“Not for long, I’m afraid,” Renly sighed. Loras looked confused, his nose wrinkled and eyebrows drawn. “You didn’t hear?” 

Loras smiled and shook his head. “You learn to hear but not listen when you stand guard all day long.”

“My brother has taken up arms. Joffrey is not Robert’s son, but rather the product of Cersei and Jaime Lannister’s incest. So are Tommen and Myrcella.”

“Really?” Only a look of mild surprise appeared on Loras’ face. “I always thought that Joffrey was evil, but the other two seem so sweet.”

Renly nodded. “And I can’t very well go to war against Stannis. He’s stiff and boring, charmless and dour, but he is my brother.”

The ornate armor Loras was wearing clanked as the knight crossed his arms. “So what are you going to do? You know my father-“

“We’ve had words. I know my brother. I’m sure I can make him name me heir if I give him an army. So your father will see his kin on the throne eventually.”

“If you manage to produce any sons, that is,” Loras snorted, giving him a playful smirk. Raising an eyebrow, Renly chuckled.

“So impatient. One would almost think it’s you who’s going to bear my child.”

“I’m sure I would have given you a number of bastards by now, were I a woman,” Loras teased before the moment turned serious again. Loras’ hands came up to grasp Renly’s face. The heavy iron gauntlets were cold and rough against his skin, but it was Loras, so somehow it felt good anyway. Letting his eyes fall shut, Renly leaned down to kiss him, sweet and soft. When they pulled apart, Loras whispered, lips so close they were brushing against Renly’s: “It’s alright, my love. It will be alright.”

Renly silenced his lover by once again pressing their lips together, sharing a last bit of forbidden intimacy behind closed doors before Renly once again had to join his wife, his bannermen, and eventually his brother, with the courage, charisma and charm worthy of a king.

-

To nobody’s surprise, Stannis was outside the gates of Storm’s End within days. His army was a surprise though – small and scarce, no more men than Renly knew supported Stannis. He still doubted that Stannis would take up arms against him with no more than four thousand men at his command. Maybe he expected Renly’s men to turn on him, but Renly knew Stannis wasn’t that stupid.

When he met his brother, the man looked tired. Stannis had always had a grim demure to him, his strict and rigid personality shining through his appearance, but now his shoulders slouched a bit and his face showed clear signs of fatigue – dark circles under his eyes, pasty complextion.

They met on horseback, on the vast plains outside of Storm’s End. Back straight and head held high, Stannis greeted him stiffly: “Renly.”

“Stannis. What a pleasure to see you,” Renly smiled. “It’s been too long since you disappeared from court.”

Stannis pursed his lips, looking no more cheerful. His departure from King’s Landing had been in rage and disappointment – and fear for his life because of the things he knew, Renly understood now. When Jon Arryn passed away, Stannis had thought that he finally would get some sort of approval from Robert. But such had not been the case. Instead of turning to the brother that had served him restlessly for so many years, Robert had gone north, to recruit Ned Stark. 

The icy Northman had not outlived Robert by long – having been murdered by the Lannisters at court, causing his son to rebel against the crown. A few days past, his widow had come to Storm’s End to broker an alliance with Renly.

Before Ned Stark had even set foot in King’s Landing, Stannis had returned to Dragonstone. Renly had begged him not to. Robert’s court was filled with Lannisters and they needed every man they could get to oppose them. But to no avail. Stannis had left and thing only went downhill from there.

And now they met, for the first time in months. Behind the older Baratheon were his closest men, all rugged men with salt-stained capes and wind-bitten faces. Renly recognized only Davos Seaworth, the former smuggler who had saved Storm’s End from starving during the rebellion. Though his did not know the man well, he was forever grateful for the honorable deed he did all those years ago. 

“What are you doing, Renly?”

“I can’t let the Lannisters take the Seven Kingdoms without any opposition, can I?”

“You’re not Robert’s heir,” Stannis stated. “You’re not the rightful king.”

“And Robert was not Aerys’ heir, as you may remember.”

“The Iron Throne is mine, brother.” Stannis’ mouth was tight, his eyes narrowed. “Bend the knee to me and I will give you everything that Robert gave you. Storm’s End, your place in court. I will forget this treason if you just bend the knee.”

“Not a sweet enough deal, brother,” Renly said, plastering a smile on his face while his stomach threatened to turn.

“Then I shall-“ Stannis began, his face tense and his voice furious. Renly thought he could see just a hint of desperation on his face too.

“Name me your heir.” Smirking, Renly motioned across the fields, to the masses of banners flying in the wind. He could almost feel the presence of Mace Tyrell, even when he had his back turned to him. _Please understand, Stannis._ “Every single man sworn to me will be yours then. If you name me your heir and keep me at court.”

“I couldn’t possibly-”

“Can you really turn me down, brother dearest? You and me both know that the Lannisters must be driven back to their rock, that a spawn of incest can’t soil the throne any longer. Together we can clean King’s Landing from the vermin and claim your rightful throne.”

“I don’t need you for that.” His voice was still harsh but something softened on Stannis’ face and Renly knew that they were on the right path.

“No,” he agreed. “But you need Mace Tyrell. You need Randyll Tarly. You need swords and lances and knights and ships that are currently loyal to me.”

For a moment, silence fell over the scene. Stannis’ teeth ground together, Davos Seaworth glanced at his king, and Renly smiled expectantly – all while the wind from the sea howled around their heads and chilled them to the bone.

Then, Stannis looked at his brother again, this time with an amused look on his face.

“I, Stannis Baratheon, first of my name, king of the Seven Kingdoms, name you, Renly Baratheon, my rightful heir, prince of the Seven Kingdoms and lord of Storm’s End.”

When he was finished, both brothers looked equally content. Ushering his horse forward, he rode up next to his brother, reaching his hand out to him. The relief of having had things go according to plan was overwhelming and it felt good to know that Stannis would not hold a grudge for this mistake of his.

“Welcome home, brother. Shall we head back to Storm’s End?” Renly proposed. “This calls for a celebration.”

“Indeed it does.” Stannis gave him a tired smile.

-

While there was no way to take every single one of Stannis’ men into Storm’s End, the older Baratheon had come prepared for siege. Renly assigned a hundred of his own men to help them set camp, while Stannis and his closest men were invited into the castle, where the feast was being prepared.

Retreating to Renly’s solar, the brothers got a chance to speak in solitude.

“What was this folly, Renly?” Stannis said, waving away the servant who reached over to pour him wine.

“I didn’t think you would raise banners,” Renly answered truthfully. “I couldn’t stay in King’s Landing after Ned Stark’s execution. I went with Loras to Highgarden and-“

“The Tyrells made you their pawn?” Stannis wrinkled his nose. “Traitors and oathbreakers, the lot of them. They’re no better than the damned Lannisters.”

“They’re powerful.” Stannis had held a grudge towards Mace Tyrell ever since the Siege of Storm’s End during the rebellion, but Renly barely even remembered that. Besides, after having had Loras at Storm’s End for so many years, Renly had grown fond of the roses in Highgarden. “Mace Tyrell is the only one in Westeros with enough gold to rival Tywin Lannister. Besides, they’re yours now.”

“They’re yours, you mean.” Stannis took a sip from a flask that had hung from his belt. “You married that Tyrell girl.”

“Her name is Margaery. It was the only way to win Mace Tyrell over. Believe it or not, being his son’s lover wins you no swords whatsoever.” Stannis, who had known about Renly’s relationship with Loras from the very beginning, smiled at the jape. “Making his daughter queen, now that does the trick.”

“I can imagine that. Power-hungry cunts.”

“And Margaery knows about me and Loras too.” Renly added, ignoring the sharp remark. “So it makes things simpler.”

“Robert would have been happy. He was worried you would never marry.” Stannis still smiled. He looked healthier than he had before, his face not as pale. Renly suspected that he too had been nervous before their meeting.

“Was he?” Renly had never been very close to Robert, and neither had Stannis in all the years that Robert had been king. But then again, the two had had fourteen years of being brothers before Renly was born and he supposed that counted for something. Though Stannis had rarely spoken well of Robert, Renly could still remember during the Siege, when Stannis would pray to the Warrior every night, begging for the strength to carry on, and for Robert’s victory.

But this was not the time to linger on Robert’s memory. Instead Renly cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So how do we go forth from this?”

“We will take King’s Landing. Tywin Lannister is occupied in the North, beating down Robb Stark’s rebellion. He will be doing us a favor, weakening the North.”

“Catelyn Stark came to me a few days past seeking alliance,” Renly confessed. “She is still here. We had no time to talk over any terms, but I can send for her if you like.”

Letting his gaze flit across the room, lazily examining the interior, Stannis shook his head. “No. We will host a proper strategy meeting tomorrow. Inform your men about it.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Stannis seemed pleased – and Renly was too. It felt nice to not be the one to lead the attack. Stannis had seen war before, Renly had not, at least not as a man grown. Knowing little to nothing of war strategy, and caring more for the work on the council than battle, Renly was happily taking a step back and letting Stannis do what he did best. At the same time, Renly could do what he did best – win over knights and lords, gaining the confidence of the people that Stannis would need to rule.

They were interrupted when Renly’s squire, a boy of ten, knocked on the door.

“My lords, the feast is awaiting. Your presence is requested.”

“Thank you.” Renly smiled at the boy. “We will be right there. You run along.”

With a nod, the boy did just that.

“Well, it would seem that the time for our celebration is nigh.” Renly rose from his seat, dusting off his green doublet and running a hand through his long, dark hair.

Outside, Loras waited, but Brienne had been replaced by one of Stannis’ personal guards, a somber man in boiled leather and a dirty cloak. He clashed greatly with the Knight of Flowers, whose ornate tunic and rainbow cloak was as impeccable as ever. Quietly, the brothers walked down the spiral stairs, followed by their guards.

In the great hall, the feast was laid out on long tables. At the end of the room stood a smaller table, reserved for the Lord, his family and the guests of honor, this time King Stannis.

Margaery met him just as they went through the doors. She laid her hands on Renly’s chest and leaned up to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “My love.”

Smiling, Renly offered her his arm and she took it. Stannis wife and daughter had joined them too, as had Lord Tyrell. They took place at the table and Renly welcomed everyone and the feast began. Renly glanced at Loras, who had taken place two seats away from Renly, next to Margaery, caught a smile and he couldn’t help but to feel completely at ease, even in these uncertain times.

-

The feast was a success, Renly decided. Multiple times during the evening, he had heard Stannis chuckle next to him, usually at something his Onion Knight had said. To see Stannis in a good mood had been refreshing. During the last months before his departure to Dragonstone, he had been gloomier than ever, his face stuck in a never-ending frown, his teeth endlessly grinding together.

But as they left the hall, when the lords had cleared out, he seemed in good spirits. Renly bid him good night and set off to his chambers. It was getting a bit chilly, now that fall was approaching quickly in the windy Stormlands and the thick stone walls of Storm’s End were as cold as everything else. Loras fell in next to him, his cloak fluttering behind him as they ascended the stairs.

“It was a fine feast, was it not?” he asked the knight.

“Of course, my lord.” Loras was grinning. Renly didn’t notice his fidgeting until Loras took him by surprise, pushing him into an alcove on the ledge of the stairs. Loras was shorter than Renly and slimmer too, but stronger than he looked. He pushed Renly against the wall and kissed him, long and hard.

Relaxing into it, Renly gripped the sides of Loras’ green tunic loosely, feeling the heat of his skin through the soft fabric. They hadn’t been able to find time for this as often since Renly had married Margaery. With all the war preparations, the pressure of producing an heir, the need to impress his bannermen, intimacy with his truly loved one had been forced down to the end of his priority list.

So now, when Loras pressed close to him, hands sliding into his hair, teeth nipping at his lower lip, Renly felt his entire body react to Loras. His scent, his touch, his taste swept him away, and Loras was everything he cared about. So when Loras dragged him the rest of the way to his bedroom through empty hallways, he could do nothing but follow.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door to his chambers, Loras slowed down. He kissed Renly slowly, deliberately as he got his breeches open, slipping a hand in to stroke him into full hardness. A moan escaped Renly’s mouth.

And then, Loras pulled away, circling around him on quick feet. 

“Your lady wife is waiting,” he murmured in his ear before he whipped out the door. Renly had been too riled up to notice Margaery waiting in his bed, covered to the shoulders by heavy linen. _That plotting little devil._

But with memory of Loras’ touch still on his skin, the taste of him still in his mouth, he slid down under the covers to join Margaery, and this time, finally, they consummated their marriage, and Renly, though his heart didn’t flutter as it did when he was with Loras and though a queer sort of guilt invaded his mind, actually enjoyed Margaery’s damp heat around him, her soft skin under his palms, her sweet kisses on his lips.

-

When Renly woke in the morning, the soft rays of sunshine peeking in through sheer curtains, Margaery was still there, still and silent by his side. Her head rested on his chest and her hand was splayed over his belly. He noticed her stirring soon enough, her hand beginning to trace the muscles of his stomach.

“G’morning,” he slurred, running a hand over her naked back. Still with sleep in his eyes, he looked at Margaery as she sat up on the bed, meeting his gaze. She reached for her sheer robe, light green with embroidered, golden roses and slipped it on. It fell loosely over her pale shoulders and small breasts as she rose from his bed.

“Good morning, my love,” she said to him, kissing him lightly on the cheek, as you would a sibling or a parent or a close friend. “I would return to my chambers, if it please my lord husband.”

“What pleases you pleases me, Margaery,” Renly told her, sitting up and finding his breeches next to the bed. “Must we be so formal with each other?”

“Perhaps not,” she murmured, a smile in her voice. Sauntering over to the door, she gave him one last look before she left. “Have a nice day, my love.”

Not feeling like calling for his squire, Renly prepared his own bath, sinking deep into the water to relax. He had a feeling today would be a long day. Not necessarily in a bad way, but preparing an attack, particularly one as large as the one they had planned, would take some time. He was excited all the same. They had a hundred thousand something men behind them. Taking the capital wouldn’t be impossible.

In the middle of his bath, a knock came on the door, and a familiar voice called his name: “My lord?”

“Come in, Loras.”

Even this early, Loras looked brisk and energetic, his brown locks falling flawlessly to his shoulders, a sly glint in his eyes. In a thin, airy tunic with the laces at his neck undone, he looked pleasantly improper. As Loras closed the door behind him, Renly commented:

“If it isn’t my favorite little schemer.”

“I’m sorry,” Loras said, not looking sorry at all with a bright smile on his lips and a sly glint in his eyes. “Though I noticed Margaery not leaving your room until morning.”

Not saying anything, Renly just leaned his head back in the tube, eyes closed and with a smile on his face. As guilty as he felt, Loras enthusiasm for him producing an heir made it all easier.

“So it’s done?” he asked, stepping over to Renly, leaning over the edge of the tub to kiss his damp lips. “Your marriage is consummated?”

“You are probably the only person in all the Seven Kingdoms who is happy when his lover has bedded his sister.”

“You need an heir.” Loras shrugged. “If years passed without an heir, my father would be very unhappy. I'm looking out for my family. And for you.”

“Not even a little bit jealous?” Renly teased. Loras rolled his eyes and kissed him again, making Renly smile against his lips. He felt Loras hand caressing his neck, fingertips just barely touching his wet skin. Loras’ hands were cold and the contrast felt strangely good. As their kisses grew more and more impatient, Loras’ hand begun to wander down his chest, drenching his sleeve in the perfumed water.

“Oh, look at that,” Loras said as they pulled away, eyeing his dripping sleeve. “You got me all wet.”

“Want to get even wetter?” Renly murmured in between quick kisses pressed to Loras’ cheek and the corner of his mouth, his voice low and husky.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

Loras looked at him, his eyes large and Renly decided then that, no, he wasn’t joking. Quickly, he got up on his knees in the tube and draped his arm around Loras’ back, pinning him to his chest.

“Renly!” Loras exclaimed, not far from laughter. The knight wasn’t exactly heavy, so without much effort, Renly managed to drag him into the tube, clothes on and everything. The water spilled over the edges as Loras fell into his lap. “Seven hells!”

Renly kissed his curses away, pulling him close, kissing his lips every time he tried to speak. When he at last fell silent and began returning Renly’s kisses with fervor, Renly himself pulled away to look at his lover. The tips of Loras’ brown locks were wet and his shirt clung deliciously to his torso. His cheeks were red and his lips were open, inviting him to kiss them again. Which he did.

“You never answered my question,” her murmured under his breath between the kisses. “You’re not even a little bit jealous?”

“I’m always jealous,” Loras confessed, leaning back from Renly’s kisses. “Every time Margaery kisses you in front of your men, I’m jealous because it can never be me. Every time she calls you love, every time she clings to your arm, every time you dance with her, every time she shares your bed, I’m jealous because it should be me. You should always be mine as I am yours.”

Finding no words, Renly stayed silent, staring into Loras eyes. His hands ran over Loras’ body, caressing every inch he could reach because it was like Loras would fade away and fall from his grip, unless he pressed him close, kissed his lips and traced his fingers over his skin.

“I love you,” he blurted out when he found his voice again and Loras kissed him and Renly found himself wondering how his heart could contain so much love and why he couldn’t stay in this moment forever.

-

Loras had to leave the room in utmost discretion, mostly because his wet hair and the fact that he was wearing Renly’s way too large robe told the clear story of what had been going on in the Lord’s chambers. 

Renly, on the other hand, left his chambers in good spirits. Clad in a simple, black doubled with golden clasps, he made his way down to the great hall. He found Stannis there, breaking fast with his family.

“Brother,” Renly greeted Stannis, then turning to the women. “My Queen, Lady Shireen. Have the chambers been to your liking?”

“Indeed they have,” Selyse answered. “You have kept the castle in good condition, Lord Renly.”

“I am humbled.” 

“Renly, if I may request your and your lords’ presence. We have matters of utmost import to discuss,” Stannis said, paying no mind to the courteous small talk.

“Would my solar be appropriate chambers for this meeting?” Renly asked with a smile.

“Indeed.” Stannis set down his cup and excused himself from the table, leaving Selyse and Shireen to their own. He called for Davos Seaworth. The man was plain and shorter than both Renly and Stannis, with worn clothes and a graying beard. But despite not being the most highborn of men, Stannis would trust the man with his life, and if Stannis trusted him, then Renly did too.

After all, he had saved both of their lives once, many years ago.

It didn’t take Renly long to find Mace Tyrell and Randall Tarly, and a handful of lesser lords he had kept close during the brief time he had claimed the throne as his own, and they returned to Renly’s solar.

“My lords,” Stannis began, his voice strong and determined, and Renly could see the ruthless commander underneath the sour facade. “We will take King’s landing and strike the pretenders from the throne. Our strength is far larger than the Lannisters’, especially with Tywin Lannister taking on Robb Stark in the Riverlands. There is no way we can lose this battle.”

For the rest of the day, they were in Renly’s solar, discussing all sorts of plans and tactics that Renly had little to no real knowledge about. Ruling was what he had done, ruling was what he preferred. Sure, the glory and fame of knighthood, the passion of battle, spoke to him. But this? The way to glory went through blood and death and he wasn’t sure he liked all that much now that he was in the middle of it.

But they were necessary evils, he decided. Just as the men seemed finished, he remembered something. Renly had been mostly quiet during the conversation, only piping in when he felt like his opinion was needed, until now. “And what will we do with the Starks?”

“Send for Lady Catelyn,” Stannis told him. “I will hear her story myself.”

So he did, and Catelyn arrived within moments, dressed in the Stark colors, her auburn hair falling free over her shoulders. “My lords.”

“Lady Stark.” Stannis once again led the conversation. “I understand you have come to negotiate an alliance with us.”

“Robb sent me to lord Renly for that, yes.”

“And what sort of agreement does he want?”

“The North will not bend the knee to you, lord Stannis,” Catelyn stated, unwavering. Her back was straight and she looked strong and proud, as cold and rigid as the North itself. She had aged well, still beautiful despite all the hardships she had lived through. “But Robb offers you his friendship. We share a common enemy, and with our joined forces we will outnumber the Lannisters greatly.”

“No,” Stannis sneered. “I will not let a thief steal half of my kingdom. Your boy will bend the knee to me or he’s next in line after the Lannisters.”

Renly said nothing, his gaze flicking between his brother and Lady Catelyn. Catelyn seemed exasperated. “Please, my lord.”

But Stannis wouldn’t listen any longer. Even Davos asked him to reconsider, but Stannis was certain, and when he was certain, nothing would change his mind. So Catelyn Stark left again, clearly disappointed in the meeting, her shoulders slumping just a bit as she exited along with the other lords. As soon as Renly and Stannis were the only two left in Renly’s solar, the younger Baratheon spoke.

“That might have been a mistake, brother.”

“A split kingdom will not do, Renly. The Starks were Robert’s friends, not mine.”

“No, I suppose not,” Renly agreed. “But you could stand to make some new friends. The ones you have are a scarce bunch.”

“No friend of mine would steal what is rightfully mine.” Stannis looked a tad bit offended.

“This will only lengthen the war.”

“Then so be it. I held Storm’s End for Robert for a year, you remember that.” He did, though his memories were fuzzy and unclear. “I can wage war against the North for just as long.”

Well, if anyone could, it would be Stannis, Renly had to give him that, at least.

-

In a fortnight, the fleet was mobilizing, Shipbreaker Bay full of ships setting off towards Dragonstone. That was where they would sail first, and then take King’s Landing from there, with only the Blackwater in between. 

The night before Renly’s ship set sail to Dragonstone, light footsteps interrupted his peace and quiet. His lady wife stood in the door, with her brother as a shadow in green and gold behind her. She was dressed in a graceful dress with pale blue skirts that fluttered around her feet as she walked. Loras, who quietly stood in the doorway, had a small smile on his handsome features as his brown eyes swept over his lover carefully.

“My love.” Margaery greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. Renly smiled at her. He was met with a lovely smile on a beautiful face. Brown eyes, that looked so much like those of her brother, seemed to glow when she looked at him.

“Margaery,” Renly said, lifting her soft hand to his lips, placing a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “What gives me the honor?”

“I have grand news,” she told him, looking up at him through dark eyelashes, her gaze secretive but joyous. “I am with child.”

And though he knew that this was why they had been together in his bed at all, he was still caught off guard. His eyes widened and he placed a gentle hand on her flat belly, as if he would be able to feel their child there already. “Truly?”

“Truly. I should have gotten my moon’s blood days ago and I have been unwell for four mornings in a row now. My septa says it’s not certain, but I can feel it.” The smile on her face was positively radiant and she placed her hand above his where it rested on her stomach.

_An heir. His heir._ Renly had almost not dared to wish for it, that he would ever have children. By his age, Robert already had a whole litter of bastards running around, but Renly still felt too young. It was as if his words had run out and all he could do was stand gaping, looking at Margaery, then at Loras, and then back at Margaery again.

“I told you he would react like that,” Loras chuckled.

“Be quiet,” Renly sneered teasingly before leaning in to kiss Margaery’s forehead, the smile not leaving his face. “I will be leaving for Dragonstone on the morrow. You will take care in my absence, I presume?”

It was a silly question, really. It wasn’t as if he had been taking care of Margaery since they got married. That duty had fallen to handmaidens and septas, and truthfully, that seemed to be the way his lady preferred it. But Margaery didn’t point out the ridiculousness in his question – she just smiled and nodded. “I will pray for your safety and victory every night.”

When she left, Loras lingered for a moment in the doorway. Smiling, Renly stepped up close to him and told him: “Get some sleep, ser. We have a war before us.”

Loras simply nodded and leaned in to place a chaste kiss on Renly’s lips, before he followed his sister back, leaving Renly alone in his chambers.

He didn’t sleep well that night, dreams of blood and battle, fire and death, plaguing his mind.

-

The following fortnight passed in a blur of angry seas and an angrier older brother, preparing ships and arming men. From the day they left Storm’s End, Renly was anxious. The sea had never been his element. He had seen Shipbreaker Bay during storms too many times to feel entirely comfortable on a ship. 

Not that he liked Dragonstone much better.

When he saw the castle the first time, he understood why Stannis had always felt slighted when he received the old Targaryen stronghold while Renly got Storm’s End. Where Storm’s End was thick and solid, Dragonstone was high and pointed. Where Storm’s End had large fields and fertile earth, Dragonstone had salt and stone.

But the days there flew past, and before long, the day of the attack had come.

-

He could imagine they made an odd couple as they stood side by side in front of their men, Stannis in dull grey armor, his hard face looking harder than usual with his teeth clenched together and his eyebrows drawn, and Renly in his usual radiant greens, smile on his face and long hair hanging in a ribbon over one shoulder.

They were almost at King’s Landing, the lit fires on the walls shining brightly. Renly could feel the rush in his veins, unlike anything he had ever felt before. Looking out over the sea of faces, he recognized almost all of them. They looked fresh and powerful and it saddened him greatly that many of them would not survive this night.

For just a moment, he thought of Loras. His Knight of Flowers was with his brother and father, together with the knights who approached the capital from land. They had spent their last night at Dragonstone together, and the memory of Loras’ hair in the candlelight, his fingertips on Renly’s skin and his smiling kisses on Renly’s lips, was enough to give Renly his usual air of confidence and put a brave smile on his face.

But they had only had time to get close before hell broke loose. A flurry of green flames seemed to come out of nowhere, burning quick and hot. But it hadn’t hit their ship and they could do little but carry on.

Before they set foot on land, Stannis shouted out to his men: “Come with me and take this city!”

He had never been a charismatic man, Stannis, but he gained a roar from his men. Renly raised his hand in the air and shouted for full lungs.

“Stannis! Stannis!”

His brother looked at him in disbelief, but soon the entire ship had caught on to his chant. Stannis stood in the middle of it all, and as the pride spread on his face, he looked at much a king as Stannis Baratheon ever could.

-

They moved in towards land together too, side by side on the landing fleet and when faced with the devastation and destruction, Renly wondered why it had come to this and for what they were fighting.

_For Robert, for the realm, for peace. For Margaery and her unborn child, for Loras and his idealistic hopes. For the songs and the stories, for knights and fair maidens. For their mother and their father and for the waves that swept them away. For House Baratheon._

Meeting Stannis gaze for a moment, he forced a smile. “Ours is the Fury.”

“Ours is the Fury,” Stannis agreed.

_For Stannis Baratheon, rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms,_ Renly thought and then he had no more time to doubt anything because the battle was upon them, bloody, fiery and terrible.

-

The battle was all he had feared it would be, but it passed, as most terrible things do. The Blackwater was aflame, the city gates broken, the streets littered with friends and foes, looking so alike when clad in pale death and crimson blood. When they took the Red Keep, the remaining men were chanting again.

“Stannis! Stannis!” was the song of the battle and King Stannis led them through the gates, the Iron Throne his for the taking.

Joffrey, the pretender, the bastard, the young boy king, begged for mercy, sobbing violently. Queen Cersei was prouder, silent tears running down her cheeks as she held her back straight, staring back into Stannis’ blue eyes with admirable bravery.

It didn’t matter. Both of their heads decorated the walls of the Red Keep only days after the attack.

-

It was Loras who found the Stark girl, terrified and shivering in her chambers. He brought her to Renly, carrying her shivering form in his arms. She was clinging to him, sobbing into the cold metal of his armor. In her grasp was a soiled white cloak that she refused to let go of.

“Lady Sansa,” Renly murmured. He had promised Catelyn the safe return of her daughter, and he meant to hold at least that promise. “Are you hurt? It’s alright, my lady. You’re safe now.”

“Ned Stark’s daughter?” Stannis asked. Renly nodded in response.

“We have to send her back to her mother,” he said, waiting tensely for Stannis judgment. He remembered the look in Catelyn Stark’s eyes when she spoke of her children, the desperation, and the grief. As hard and tough as Stannis was, he had to understand that the girl had been through enough and deserved to come home. 

“We could use her to get Stark to kneel.”

“Your Grace-“

“But we are not going to do that,” Stannis interrupted, not a single muscle on his face betraying his true feelings. “Lady Catelyn was on her way to Riverrun, no? We will gather up a party to take her safely to her mother.”

One of the very few people who Stannis loved, truly loved – and who truly loved him back, was his daughter, little sickly Shireen. If there was one sort of love the king understood, it was a parent’s unconditional love. Renly smiled and bowed down. “Yes, Your Grace.”

-

Afterwards, when Renly and Stannis stood side by side in the chambers that once had been Robert’s but now were Stannis’, they said nothing. The Blackwater was still on fire, the city still in ruins, its people still broken. Renly looked out over the sky, but the fires were too bright and put the stars to shame.

“Robert would have been proud,” was all Stannis told him and he was probably right, but Renly’s gut still twisted with the memory of every scream and sob that had come from those wounded by the battle.

One look into his brother’s haunted blue eyes told him that it would never get easier.

-

A fortnight after the attack, more ships arrived from Storm’s End, tall and majestic Queen Selyse, quiet little Shireen, and his own lady, outshining all, beautiful Margaery, were all among its passengers. Her belly had grown since they last met and though she still was slim, the bump on her stomach showed everyone else what Renly already knew.

For the first time, Renly felt as if they had truly won. Glancing over at Loras, who stood at his side, as radiant as ever in his polished armor and immaculate, white cape, he smiled.

The sun seemed to shine a bit brighter.

-

His chambers in the Red Keep were as beautiful as he remembered them, with a view over Blackwater Bay. The curtains fluttered in the wind, the sheer fabric dancing gracefully as the sun shone through them. Though autumn had come, the weather was still sunny and warm and Renly was dressed in only a thin robe and soft breeches.

With a cup of wine in his hand he looked out over the water. It was a calm, still day. The waters of Shipbreaker Bay had always been violent, but the Blackwater was different – when it wasn’t on fire, that was.

“What are you thinking?” Loras’ voice broke the silence of the room. The Knight of Flowers was spread out over Renly’s bed, completely in the nude. His skin was pale and gleamed in the sunlight. Thick curls spread out over the sheets, like a halo around his head. As innocent as he looked, Renly knew that Loras had killed more men in the war than he liked to think about.

It took a while to get over.

“Nothing.” Renly smiled, turning back to the bed, leaning down to kiss Loras. The knight kissed him back, reaching his hands into Renly’s hair, running through the ink-black tresses. When he pulled away, he whispered:

“Your hair is getting long.”

“I like it.” Renly shrugged and pulled away, sitting back on the bed. Running a hand through his hair, it fell past his shoulders and down his back.

“Mm, me too,” Loras agreed and sat up too. Shuffling around to his back, he ran his fingers through the black locks as he continued the previous conversation. “You were thinking about the war, weren’t you?”

“Sometimes I think you read my mind.”

Chuckling, Loras moved Renly’s hair aside and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I’ve just known you for a long time.”

Starting to braid the black strands, Loras continued: “It’s over now. It’s alright.”

“No.” Renly shook his head. “The North is still in rebellion. And the Greyjoys are acting up too.”

“But that’s Stannis’ duty, not yours. You bent the knee to him, not the other way around.”

“I’m still on the small council. I’m still his heir.” Renly sighed. “He wants me to go north. The Starks are still fighting the Western Army. No matter who wins, we will have to deal with them next. Tywin Lannister will want revenge for his daughter and grandson, and the Starks still want independence.”

“And what does he want you to do?” Renly could almost hear the frown on Loras face as we spoke, and his hands tightened on Renly’s hair in annoyance. “Convince the Starks to bend the knee?”

“That’s exactly what he wants me to do.”

“And are you going to?”

“Eventually. I will do what Stannis asks of me. And besides,” he laughed. “Stannis is too stiff to ever convince someone as young and virile as Robb Stark to join his side. So he needs his younger, more charming brother to do it for him.”

“Modest as always, I hear,” Loras commented.

Renly paused for just a bit, staring at the clear blue sky that was visible through the open window, before continuing. “But not before Margaery has given birth.”

“Oh?” Loras secured the braid with a ribbon and Renly turned around to look at him.

“Robert always went hunting when his children were born,” he explained. “I don’t want that. I want to be here when my heir is born.”

“Such a gentleman,” Loras teased, smiling. Whatever he was about to say next was swallowed by Renly’s lips as they pressed again Loras’. Renly pushed him back on the bed, settling between his legs as he pinned him down and he kissed him aggressively.

“You want gentle?” he muttered against Loras’ lips, thrusting his hips down, drawing a small moan from his lover.

“No,” he gasped.


End file.
